


How To Make An Entrance (By Matt, Luke, Jess, Frank, Elektra, and Valkyrie)

by RobinsonsWereHere



Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Luke Cage (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, I haven't finished Luke Cage or seen Defenders, I'm just gonna pretend Danny doesn't exist, Infinity War AU where Valkyire crashes in Harlem and is ready to fuck shit up, all the Defenders are in Harlem, i would mark it matt/claire but this has nothing to do with them, possibly an AU series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 13:03:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14791016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinsonsWereHere/pseuds/RobinsonsWereHere
Summary: Even for Harlem, these people are strange.





	How To Make An Entrance (By Matt, Luke, Jess, Frank, Elektra, and Valkyrie)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking of making this into a series, in which case this would probably be the second part, but basically Matt doesn't want Frank out of his sight, Valkyrie crashed in Hell's Kitchen and wants everyone to help her find her friends, Elektra has made herself known, and Claire is tired of dealing with everyone.

Even for Harlem, these people are strange.

The group is led by a woman wearing a leather jacket, jeans, and a resting bitch face. Behind her is a large, scowling man wearing a jacket that might have read Alias Investigations before it was decimated by bullets. The man behind him is smaller and yet somehow more threatening, perhaps made so by the weapons he carries semi-discreetly all over his body. He is followed by a woman whose fancy and expensive-looking coat almost hides the bloodstains soaking her equally expensive shirt, a smaller woman who looks the most normal of the six, aside from the regal way she walks, and a man wearing all black and trailing his fingers along the wall.

The woman behind the counter of the diner turns to her daughter. “Are these yours?”

Claire Temple sighs. “They’ve multiplied.”


End file.
